


unanswered

by thir13enth



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, but i mean, isn't that probably most of their interactions anyway, mostly dialogue banter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22661005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thir13enth/pseuds/thir13enth
Summary: Claude von Riegan doesn’t leave things to chance. Unfortunately, he finds love is sometimes a gamble.
Relationships: Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	unanswered

To Claude’s misfortune, the harsh afternoon sun interrupts his sleep — the shade under the tree no longer providing the adequate shade to cover his eyes for his continued unbothered sleep.

Languidly, he peels his eyes open, letting his sight adjust to the sharp light with a few blinks. He spots Freikugel off to the side, its handle resting against the nearby tree and the curve of its spiked blades in the dirt. Occasionally during naps, he’d find Freikugel strategically positioned so that its shadow extended the shade over his face, but today, it seems like the sweltering midday heat has taken Hilda out before she was able to.

Fortunately for her, however, she claimed a spot in the grass that kept her under the leaves. Without the rude intrusion of the sun, Hilda remains deep in sleep — in stark contrast to how he usually sees her. Her pigtails, usually neatly tied, are a loose and lopsided. Her hands, often stretched out when she checks her manicure or weaved together as she thinks of another favor to ask, are half-curled and palm-up. Her eyes, ordinarily sparkling and scheming, are closed, with her eyelashes—

What color _are_ her eyelashes anyway? Black like her eyebrows, or do they just look that way because of her mascara? Maybe pink like her hair? Lighter?

He still hasn’t figured that out. Leaning in close enough would be the only way to really discern, but he also knows that at _that short_ of a distance, he would have other priorities.

Her eyes suddenly snap open — but he’s already caught the hint of the smile at the corner of her lips and has turned his eyes away from her before she could catch him staring.

“Good nap?” he asks her, shifting his eyes from the sky back to her — as if his eyes had always been on the clouds and not on her.

She returns a big sigh. “Not any better than yours.”

“This was never a competition,” he replies, giving her an exaggerated pout. “We both rested, and to me, that is a win-win situation for _both_ of us.”

She purses her lips. “You know,” she remarks, “I nap at least twice as much now because of you.”

He smiles. “I’m a good influence.”

“No, you just tire me out.”

“I’m just too much for you to handle, huh?”

She snorts, rolling onto her side to face him, propping her head up on the back of her hand. “Funny words coming from someone who told me I can grasp him anywhere anytime I liked.”

He raises an eyebrow, surprised she still remembers that. He had said those words at a time they were just starting to get to know each other, and he had honestly just been testing for her reaction to how seriously she took things. 

But seeing that she’s actually remembered he said that…

Well.

Not that he _hasn’t_ thought about her grasping him — suddenly taking him in her sturdy and strong arms and… kissing him. Or something.

And perhaps maybe she’s thought the same?

The possibility is certainly there. But like most things, there are also many unknowns. The only difference is how many he’s willing to leave uncertain.

And Claude von Riegan is not known to entrust things to chance.

He considers a moment longer, then turns to face her. “Say, Hilda,” he says. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” she immediately returns, pointing at him. “But go ahead and ask another one.”

“Agh, you always get me good, Hilda,” he exclaims, clutching his heart as if he’s been shot. “But serious,” he says, voice low again. “I want to consult you on something.”

Her eyes sparkle. “Asking me to join in on another one of your infamous schemes?”

He looks at her for a second, contemplating, then decides to change direction.

He chuckles. “Unfortunately, no. I don’t have any enemies to put out of commission just yet. This time, I want your expertise on matters of the heart.”

“Huh,” she replies, her eyebrows knitting together. “And why would _I_ have expertise on that?”

He shrugs, giving her a lazy smile. “Oh, you know, you’re always hanging out with Dorothea all the time. I imagine that the two of you must have many… uh, let’s say _topics_ of discussion.”

“We do, but romance is hardly one of them,” Hilda refutes.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter,” he replies. “What I’m suggesting is that you know her pretty well. And that’s good enough for me because my question sort of… _involves_ her.”

She gives him a funny look, narrowing her eyes. “What do you mean it _involves_ Dorothea?”

“Well, you know, just maybe on the off-chance that someone really _really_ likes her and thinks they might have chemistry with her,” he explains, the smile across his lips growing as he sees Hilda’s eyebrows raise. “And I’ve been thinking to just tell them that this someone should take a chance and ask her if she likes them. She’d appreciate someone being straightforward, right?”

She raises a hand to interrupt. “First of all,” she says. “You need to tell me who this is.”

Claude shakes his head firmly. “No can do. I have promised to keep my lips sealed.”

“Then I can’t help you answer this question,” she replies indignantly, turning her nose up. “I don’t know who this person is, so I can’t tell you how Dorothea would react.” She rolls back onto the grass, crossing her arms, looking betrayed at his refusal to indulge her in gossip.

“Alright,” he says. “If you can’t answer for Dorothea, then you can at least answer for yourself. If it were you, you’d prefer someone to tell you their honest feelings, right?”

She freezes there, not expecting him to turn the question on her. “I mean, I don’t know,” she replies quickly, almost mumbling. “I think so. Probably.” Then she adds, “I guess Dorothea would probably think the same, but in her experience, all the terrible men are the ones that throw themselves at her feet.” She blinks a few times, but then suddenly turns her face to him again, her eyes narrowing. “Wait. This _friend_ _of yours_ is really just you, isn’t it?”

His heart thumps hard in his chest, but he doesn’t let it get to his head, responding calmly. “Oh, please have enough confidence in me to at least be a little more subtle than this.”

She rolls her eyes, turning her head back to the sky. “Well, good,” she replies. “Because I think Dorothea deserves someone that isn’t a clown.”

“Ouch,” he replies, then adding, “But you always laugh at my jokes, so at least I’m funny, yeah?”

Hilda sighs. “Dear Claude, when will you learn that I am not laughing _with_ you, but rather _at_ you.”

“Ah, Hilda, must you always hurt me?” He frowns exaggeratedly. “Some bodyguard you are, hurting me like this. I thought bodyguards were supposed to protect their house leaders.”

“Oh please, you can take a little insult.”

“No can do. I’m a delicate flower.”

Hearing her own line from his mouth, Hilda rolls her eyes at him again, but this time, says nothing in response.

Claude tries to bite back his smile, but it eventually slips out over his lips.

Maybe he _should_ take the chance.

“Can I ask you another question?”

She sighs dramatically, facing him once more. “Once again, you just did.”

“Glad you’re counting.”

“And is it a question about Dorothea?”

“Nope,” he replies. “This time it’s a question about you. A question only you can answer.”

She blinks. “Only me?” she asks. Softly. With a held breath.

“Yeah,” he replies gently. “Only you.”

He takes another breath, but then stops himself before the words fall out of his mouth.

No, he doesn’t need to ask her. He has a feeling he already knows the answer anyway.

This is the chance he’s willing to take.

“Is your brother’s hair pink, too?”

She groans audibly, rolling her head back. “ _Claude._ ”

“I just have a lot of questions,” he says. “Do both of your parents have pink hair? Or maybe there’s a side of the family that the pink hair runs on? And if so, does everyone on that side of the family have pink hair? Is it the same shade? And do you think pink is a dominant hair color? I just have a lot of questions.”

“I’m not answering any more of your questions today, Claude.”

“Well then,” he says, lifting to his feet. He brushes off the dirt from his clothes. “I guess you can’t tell me whether or not you want my serving of dessert at dinner tonight.” He starts into a slow jog to the mess hall, giving her a short wave. “Catch you later!”

“Hey!” Standing to her feet, Hilda grabs Freikugel, hoisting it over her shoulder. “You better wait!”

He does.

**Author's Note:**

> as per usual, hilclaude always turns into chaos for me. their conversations just go completely out of hand. to formally file a complaint, you know where to find me
> 
> twitter @ napsbeforesleep


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